Dead Inside
by DarylxDixon
Summary: The first prequel to Strangers. Rupert Giles needs Bobby Singers help with a demonic problem that puts Dean face to face with an old flame, and Castiel has a moral crisis. Rated a little on the high side for adult themes, violence and language,
1. Motel California

This fic is set in the same universe as my last crossover, Strangers. I wanted to explain some of the more complicated, or just plain unexplained, story lines and archs without bloating the main fic too much so I decided to do a couple of offshoot fics to help out with that. This predates Strangers by well over two years and is slightly AU. There are several short chapters planned out, and I hope it doesn't become an overblown, epic-ly long fic like the last one - wish me luck with that!

You can keep up with the 'Strangers' fics via tumblr at '**strangers-verse**'!

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**Leaving Clarksburg, Missouri - 1:23 A.M.**

"Man, that is the _last_ time I work with a demon." Blood and dirt stained, Dean grunted passed a mouthful of pretzels as he stared into oncoming traffic with his wrist resting at 12 on the wheel in front of him. He was exhausted, and looked it. He tried to find Zen in the Journey song that was barely audible over the crackling Missouri radio station, "Two days down the drain." He handed the bag of pretzels into the back seat to a visibly mussed and oddly quiet Castiel, who just eyed it's contents for several seconds. A plastic crinkling sound that lasted far too long ended as Cas finally pushed a pretzel into his mouth and kept out of the conversation.

Equally dirty and tired, Sam looked over a map, lighting up part of Kansas with a Casey's flashlight on a novelty key chain, "_Two days_," He turned the map over and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, "Feels more like two months. Let's just..." yawn, "Meet up with Bobby and turn in."

"I don't get it." Dean grumped, wincing a little at his own words, "We're never off our game this bad. Should've seen his crap coming a mile away."

"Well," Same rubbed his eyelids with his thumb and index finger then looked over at Dean, trying to spin the situation with his motivated voice, "Maybe this was a sign that we need to recoup? You know, cut our losses, patch ourselves up. Get some rest? Dean, we've been on the road for three weeks straight. Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something?"

"Yeah, well. I'm gonna take the hint this time. Grab a day off, get me some sleep. Recharge the old grapefruit and think of _all kindsa ways_ to pay Sacha back for dragging our asses through that mess." Dean glanced up at the signs on the side of the highway, looking for any sign of a specific motel, "I ever get my hands around that skinny throat..." he grimaced with the grimace of a thousand grimaces as he turned off the highway down an offramp lit by an ancient Denny's sign, "_Demons_, man. Next demon I see, I'm axing the bitch's head off just _on principal_."

Turning the flashlight off with 'pop', Sam rested back into his seat as they turned onto a narrow road that took them passed the welcome sign and into California, Missouri. What passed for streets were poorly paved and an obstacle course of cars parked on either side of the road, which made getting where you were going a slow and tedious process.

They finally came upon Buchanan and made a left. Dean glanced over at Sam and then back at at the road, "Almost there, Sammy." He looked back over his shoulder for a moment, barely taking his eyes away from the street, "You okay back there?"

They pulled up, slowly, in front of the California Motel just as Cas was opening his mouth to respond. He heard Dean's panicked voice instead of his own, "No way..." He sighed and looked passed Cas to see out the rear window, talking to himself as he weighed his options for escape, "_You gotta be kidding me_..."

The car jolted a bit and Sam opened his eyes as they started moving, slowly, in reverse. He was sleepy-eyed and a little groggy when he sat up in his seat and looked around, sucking in a loud breath through his nose, "Are we here?"

Determined pout, Dean tried to inch his way away from the motel, his eyes fixed on the scene in front of him. He didn't respond.

"Dean?" Sam rubbed his eye with the back of his wrist, still a little out of it.

"Go back to sleep, Sam." Dean responded as calmly as he could. It sounded a heck of a lot like an order.

By now Sam was more or less awake, and he tried to take stock of what was happening and started to look around, "Are we going backwards?"

The response was louder this time, "_Go back to sleep_, Sam."

Confused, and now alarmed, Sam started to inch his hand towards a sawed off, double-barrel shotgun he had stashed beneath the glove box when his eyes fixed on something in front of the car that made him pause, "Is that..." he squinted, trying to focus his eyes, "Is that _Giles_?"

The Impala continued to coast back towards the intersection they'd turned at, and Dean made a grab for the map. He shook it open again and held it out to Sam, insistently, "Here. Find another hotel."

Sam took the map so that, if nothing else, Dean would stop shaking it in his face. He started folding it again, "There is no other hotel. Dean, this is the only one in town."

Dean's expression hit rock bottom and he curled his lip a bit, "So..." frustrated, "_Find another town_."

"I don't think..." Sam started but finished with an exasperated sigh.

"I just think that it's a small hotel, and it looks kinda crowded. What do you think?" Dean shot a glance back towards the back seat and when he didn't get a response, he prompted with, "Cas?"

"Uh, Dean..." Sam caught his brother's attention and Dean followed his gaze out in front of the car where Cas was now standing in the high beams, his attention focused on whatever Bobby and Giles were arguing about.

Another pissy expression spread across Dean's face and he put his foot on the break, "Son of a _bitch_."


	2. The Gang's All Here

"Seems like an awful waste of both our time and a lotta _my_ money when there's a knife that can do what you want without breaking a sweat." Bobby stood to one side of the open trunk of a slick, cream-colored 1930s Ford 'Model A' that was pulling a similar-era yellow and green 'Covered Wagon' trailer - the hallmarks of Giles having too much time on his hands as of late. Bobby held a large, bronze cup in his hand packed with several small ziplock bags that were half full of this or that and a checklist on a small piece of lined paper.

"Hmm?" Giles asked innocently, leafing through a pristine copy of _Tales of Terror_ from the top step of his travel trailer.

Having tossed the last ingredient on the list into the cup, Bobby turned to face Giles, finding himself at navel-level with his breezy comrade. He grunted as he looked up, pulling one baggie out of the cup after another and stating it's name before putting it back, "Yellow earth, black chalk, red bone, crushed saffire, and don't even tell me you're not gonna need Sam for this. I may be dumb, but I'm not _stupid_, and if this ain't what it looks like, I'll eat a rock."

"It's an exorcism." Castiel's sudden appearance behind Bobby startled him as well as Giles. He seemed tense.

Bobby nearly dropped what he was holding and swore under his breath, wincing his eyes closed, "_Damn_ it! I'm gonna staple a bell to your coat one'a these days, boy." he sighed and looked back at Cas.

"I'm sorry?" Was all Giles managed, looking up from the book.

"An exorcism." Glancing around, as if mildly paranoid that they were being watched, Cas continued, "A _dangerous_ one."

"Well, round of applause for Obvious Guy." Bobby grunted and put the cup on top of the pages Giles was reading, his attention on Castiel.

"How dangerous?" Sam joined the conversation from afar, hiking up the slightly inclined road with an extra pouty, extra growly Dean just a few paces behind him holding a duffel bag over his shoulder.

Cas' response was to Sam, but his eyes were now locked on Giles, who paid him little attention, "I don't know how to answer that. What happens if you swallow a _hydrogen bomb_?" He surrounded the last two words with unnecessary, bitchy air quotes.

Sam glanced at Dean, a little put off by Castiel's sudden attitude problem. Oblivious, Dean traded the look Sam gave him for a sleepy grin and mouthed off, "Guess it'd be like crossing the beams, right?"

"I... " A pissy sigh from Cas, who closed his eyes for a moment, frustrated at another pop culture reference he would never understand piling on top of an already sour mood. He looked back at Dean, "_Don't know_."

"Man," Dean shook his head and rubbed at his eyelids, "Who harshed Fozzy's mellow?"

"No one... _harshed_ my _mellow_." Castiel tried to regain a lighter composure, but the aggressive and senseless air quotes were betraying his anxiety. He tried to shift focus off of his behavior by throwing a loaded question to Giles, "Are you alone?"

"No." Giles finally spoke up, closing the book and becoming immediately engrossed in the ritual ingredients he'd been handed, "Traveling alone seemed less than wise in this climate."

His answer was punctuated perfectly with the appearance of lanky, sneering Connor from around the side of the trailer. He had a coil of cord over his shoulder and a half-eaten, home made granola bar in his free hand. He glared quietly at Cas for a moment then up-nodded to someone who was still out of sight. Xander appeared not far behind him, leaning out from behind the trailer to see what Connor was staring at, "What? New people?"

"_Maybe_." Connor made a little scowly face and motioned to Sam and Dean with his forehead, "Do you know them?"

Leaving whatever it was he was unpacking where it was, Xander climbed over cables and a couple of suit cases to get around Connor to see the visitors for himself. As soon as the Winchesters saw Xander they both lit up with huge, welcoming smiles.

"_Harris_!" The first hug came from Dean - a handshake, chest bump, back pat sort of affair that was meant to be just affectionate enough to welcome back an old friend, but not so affectionate that it bordered on chick flick, "Man, are you a sight for sore eyes!"

And then came the hug from Sam. It lasted way too long. He followed his brother's lead but it somehow came off as decidedly girlier, "Hey, Xander! When did you guys get here?"

"While the sun was still up." Dragging a box behind him with the cord coil still over his shoulder, Connor answered Sam's question for Xander. He didn't seem that thrilled to meet anyone new and couldn't be bothered to stop working long enough for an introduction or a handshake. He bent down and hefted the box up, shoving it into the back seat of Giles car then lifted the cord off of his shoulder and dumped it into the back seat on top of everything that was already piling up in the car, "We had things to do."

Dean's smile faded into a snarky grimace and Sam's brow leveled with confusion. Neither could shake the off feeling that Connor was _judging the fuck out of them_ for something, but it didn't matter. Nothing could shake Dean's buzz.

He looked more than relieved as he gave Xander another pat on the back, "Dude, am I glad it's you." Dean laughed, curbing the urge to give Xander a noogie, "We saw Giles and, man, I thought for damn sure he'd still be toting around that psycho."

Sam tried to interrupt his brother with an, '_Uh, Dean_...' but Dean was on a roll, "I mean, yeah, she's a hot little tamale but she is _one crazy Mamacita_." He tried to get Sam's attention, to elbow him into the joke, but his brother's eyes were fixed at something over Dean's shoulder and they were starting to widen. Dean returned his brother's panicked look with one of confusion and the silence was broken by monotone from Cas.

"Is that Faith?"


End file.
